Red Light Honeymoon!
by BrenRenQoI
Summary: An ambush that Clark escapes after getting hit with Red Kryptonite exposure leads under-the-influence Clark to join Lois back at the Lexor with a different sort of under-cover operation in mind.
1. Chapter 1

Red Light Honeymoon!

By Bren Ren

~*S*~

Summary: An ambush that Clark escapes after getting hit with Red Kryptonite exposure leads under-the-influence Clark to join Lois back at the Lexor with a different sort of under-cover operation in mind.

Rating: Mature Audiences, Sexual Content and Adult Themes

Disclaimer: Aw, c'mon, guys! You gave us these brilliant set-ups, how can expect us not to play with them? Not making any money here, as always, I only wish I could get paid to write this stuff!

~*S*~

Part One

"Night, Dad. Night, mom." Clark disconnected the line, and it immediately rang again. With a quizzical frown, he answered the call. "Hello?"

""You'll never guess where I am." Clark smiled in good humor. Lois. Who else? "Our former love nest."

It took a full three blinks to clear the mental images provoked by that turn of phrase. "The honeymoon suite? How…?"

"Just the management's way of apologizing for any inconvenience suffered during our stay." Leave it Lois to bull-doze the Lexor's management into an extended stay in the honeymoon suite.

"I was the one who never got to have the bedroom," he retorted with only marginal petulance.

"Well, this will give you something to look forward to." Whoa. What?!? Did she just say—"When you find the right woman, of course," she blurted out after an odd beat.

"Of course." It was really too bad she couldn't see the smug little smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

"It's so relaxing here…" She trailed off for a moment, and Clark just almost thought she might have been working her way up to extending an invitation. "I've got the drapes closed." Again, the words seem to tumble haphazardly from her mouth.

He gave up with a soft chuckle ending in a yawn. "This is all fascinating, Lois, but I'm beat. Think I'll turn in." _Before I accidentally say something that'll lead us both into trouble. At least then I can safely enjoy those mental images…_

"Me too," she answered automatically, and for a split-second, Clark was afraid he'd actually given voice to that last thought. "Uh, Clark…?" she added, and again Clark began to wonder if she might actually invite him to join her.

"What?" Clark asked after another awkward pause. "Was there something else?"

"No, nothing," she replied. "Just, well… goodnight, Clark," she fumbled through in closing.

"Good night, Lois," he answered with soft resignation. He pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it for a second before hanging up and returning it to his nightstand. He laid back into his pillow, but it wasn't quite comfortable, so he pulled it out from under his head and fluffed it till it exploded in fuzzy white feathers just as the other one had in the honeymoon suite. He dropped his head directly onto the mattress with a groan of frustration. He was not going to be getting to sleep any time soon tonight, that was for damn sure.

He whipped into his blue spandex and red cape and took to the dark night skies above Metropolis in less than the span of a heartbeat.

His intended destination was somewhere in the Arctic Circle for an ice-cold glacier-melting dip, but he scarcely made it out of Metropolis before a desperate plea for help rang out that he just couldn't ignore.

A diesel tanker truck was being hijacked in a daring high-speed operation on the Interstate. He immediately adjusted his course and angled out to the scene in seconds. Two by two, he plucked six of the would-be hijackers right off the rig, tossing them to the shoulder with just the right force to disable them without any serious injuries.

Superman then flew up along the passenger side of the tractor after dropping off the last pair. The window just happened to be rolled down, so Superman simply reached in and dragged the creep out through the window whilst simultaneously disabling his large automatic machine of death.

The driver of the truck, shocked senseless by the ordeal, came to a stop on the shoulder and climbed out of the cab with shaky legs. Superman dropped down to the earth beside the man and offered him a hand. "Are you alright, sir?"

The trucker shook his head before shaking the caped hero's hand in gratitude. "Yeah. I'm fine," he told Superman jubilantly. "Thanks to you, man. I've seen some crazy stuff on the road, but that… Hot damn, that was nuts! Thank you! I owe you one."

"It's my pleasure to help," Superman answered with a kind smile. "And my needs are few, so why don't you just pay it forward."

"Oh yeah, man! Hell yeah!" He grabbed Superman's arm and shook it enthusiastically. "Anything you say. You just gave me a new lease on life, I tell ya."

Superman gave him a quick genial pat on the shoulder as he disengaged his arm from the ebullient man's grasp. "You take care out there," he bade the old road warrior as he began to drift up.

Before he could get very far off the ground, though, a broad beam of intense red light shot out from the shoulder behind the truck and engulfed Superman's entire upper torso for a good ten seconds. The trucker was somewhat blinded when it went dark as quickly as it had lit up, but he could hear the scuffle of a great many feet rapidly approaching, underscored by militant orders being shouted out in the darkness.

"Go! Go! Capture him now! Move, move, move!!!"

Just before the shadowy figures finally reached him, the stolid driver heard the telltale whoosh of Superman's departure more than he saw the streak of red flying up and away. He put his arms up in surrender, but to his great surprise, every last single one of these mysterious renegades turned away and fully retreated, leaving the man standing by his rig scratching his head in complete bewilderment.

"Now that was absolutely in-fraggling-sane! Crazy craptastic, man! No one's ever gonna believe this one, dammit." He cursed and grumbled his way back around to his side of the cab, climbed in, and drove away, still grumbling.

Superman was flying rather slowly for a while until he stopped seeing everything tinted in red, but it was a bit longer before he felt like the strange fog that beam had put in his mind start to dissipate. He couldn't even quite remember exactly where he'd been going before that strange escapade. Something about… Lois… our love nest? … The honeymoon suite. That's right, she'd just chickened out of inviting him to join her in the honeymoon suite.

Hmmm. This suddenly seemed like a very, very interesting opportunity, and he wasn't about to wait for it to knock. He swooped out to the rooftop of the Lexor for a gentle landing. He whipped back into civilian clothing before crossing to the access door clad in black trousers, black dress shirt, and one hot and sexy black leather jacket. He fairly marched through the corridors and stairs until he finally reached the doors of their "love nest."

Clark just happened to have forgotten to turn his room key in earlier—he really had intended to return it in the morning, but now he decided his accidental fortune must be a sign. He was supposed to come back to her here. Fate, destiny, the sun, the moon, and the stars all conspired to make this the night everything would change between him and his absolutely amazing partner. Clark quietly let himself into the suite, making sure the "Do Not Disturb" sign was in place as he softly locked himself in.

For a moment, Clark simply stood just inside the room, reaching out for Lois with every one of his senses. He could easily absorb her scent in the room, and even the air seemed to taste sweeter for having her presence. He heard the soft rustle of the bedclothes as Lois tossed fitfully. And her heart was beating strong, but her pulse was definitely a bit irregular. Every once in a while, he heard a soft moan or a sigh escape her lips, prompting him to pull his glasses down the bridge of his nose to engage his x-ray vision. His trousers immediately grew distinctly uncomfortable as he realized exactly what she was doing… to herself.

~*S*~


	2. Chapter 2

~*S*~

Part Two

~*S*~

For a while, Clark stood frozen a scant few feet inside the room, staring through the bedroom door with his x-ray vision, utterly captivated by Lois Lane's self-pleasuring activities. Only when she moaned his name was he propelled into motion.

His name.

Clark.

Not Superman. Clark.

"Ooooh, Clark…" Her voice, always alluring, had never sounded so. Damn. Sexy.

Three strides through which his feet barely even touched the floor carried him to the door. He opened it without so much as a knock in greeting. Lois squealed as she hit the light and caught Clark in its glare.

"Clark?!" Lois fairly screamed in righteous indignation. "What the hell? What are you doing here?"

"Accepting your invitation," he answered with maddening calmness in way-too-sultry tones.

"You weren't invited!" Lois snapped back, pulling the bedding, comforter and all, up around her torso defensively.

"Your unspoken invitation," He amended congenially. His lips quirked in a smile that was just a hair shy of outright lechery. "I couldn't let us miss this opportunity just because you chickened out."

"Chickened… what?!—Clark, have you lost your mind?" Lois sputtered.

Still practically leering at her, Clark crossed further into the room, kicking the door shut behind him and coming to a stop less than half a step away from the edge of the bed. "On the contrary, Lois. I'm seeing things more clearly than ever. And you wanna know what I find most telling, Lois?" Even though she shook her head in refusal, Clark kept right on talking. "Last night, when you knew I was right on the other side of that door, just a heartbeat away, you decided to slip between the sheets wearing nothing but a smile. But tonight, when you had the whole suite all to your little lonesome, for some reason you decided you needed to wear pj's to bed. Enjoying the freedom to strut around in a negligee I could understand— you did say you were intent on indulging yourself. Wasn't that the whole point of this little getaway of yours in the first place? But those plain, boring, frumpy pj's? Tsk, tsk, tsk."

"Frumpy?!" Lois sputtered. "Wait a sec!" She threw the covers back, rose to her knees, and crawled across the bed to kneel nose to nose with Clark. Her expression was so dark, he was half surprised she hadn't decked him. "How the hell did you know what I was wearing last night?"

"You mean what you weren't wearing?" Clark answered with a grin that was undeniably leering.

That finally pushed her over the edge and she took a swing at him, but he caught her wrist before her fist connected with his face. "Were you spying on me?" Lois demanded in outrage. "You got some sick voyeuristic peeping habit I don't know about?"

"Not really," Clark answered. His thumb began stroking the inside of her wrist still held captive in his grip, and Lois tried to wrench her arm free, but the effort was only halfhearted at best. Sensing her weakening defenses, Clark pressed on. "But I just can't seem to muster up much will-power whenever I'm around you. Truth is, you wouldn't even need Kryptonite to have me on my knees if you gave it even half an effort."

"Kryptonite? Hah!" Lois snorted. "Even if it were real, the only person Kryptonite has any effect on is Superman, and I hardly think you qualify there, Smallville."

"You might be surprised," Clark answered, that all-too-knowing quality creeping back into his grin. Another snort of derisive laughter from Lois prompted Clark to pull her captive wrist up to his mouth so he could caress that soft, sensitive skin of hers with his lips. A soft moan escaped her lips before she could catch herself. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he told her with lips still pressing into her skin. The vibrations of his voice against her flesh elicited another moan from his weakening partner.

"Stop it, Clark!" There wasn't nearly as much strength in her voice now, and her protest wasn't the slightest bit convincing anymore.

Clark lifted his other hand to tenderly stroke her cheek; he smoothed his thumb across full lips that began to part beneath his touch. A soft sigh slipped out of her mouth, seeming to take all the fight she had left in her with it. But then she suddenly snapped out of the spell he was casting with a firm shake of her head. "No. This is crazy," she refuted, her voice firm once again.

The hand she'd shaken from her face dropped down and slipped around her waist to pull her snugly into his solid masculine frame. "This is destiny," he countered.

"It's insanity," she retorted, only half-heartedly trying to pull away.

"It's fate." He pulled her fractionally closer still.

"Madness." She was barely resisting now.

"Inevitable." Scarcely more than a hair's breadth remained between their mouths.

"It's lunacy." She simply couldn't make herself pull back anymore.

"Utter foolishness," Clark finally agreed as he closed that final infinitesimal distance between them and their mouths merged together at long last.

While Clark admittedly didn't have all that much experience in the ways of the physical expressions of love between men and women, he had certainly experienced his fair share of hormone-induced oral experimentation with the fairer sex in his youth. Never, though, had a single kiss provoked such a flood of sparkly fireworks exploding behind his closed lids from the moment his lips made contact with hers.

With a groan of utter rapture that was absolutely matched in intensity by the responding moan of his partner, Clark pressed ever more firmly into her as their kissing deepened. He began tracing the contours of her lips with the soft tip of his tongue, and when she gasped in delighted response, he instantly seized the opportunity to thrust deeply into her open mouth, to explore every last nook and crevice, savoring and committing her taste to indelible memory. Another ever more powerful groan rumbled through his chest as he felt her return the intimation in kind.

"Why have we been fighting this for so long?" Clark asked after breaking away from their kiss several long moments later. "Can't you feel how good we are together?"

Lois kept her eyes fastened shut as she fought desperately to calm her heavy breathing and slow her racing pulse. "I told you what happened the last time I was foolish enough to sleep with someone I work with. I won't be made a fool like that ever again."

"Oh, Lois," Clark breathed. "I would never, ever make a fool of you. I swear, I would never do anything to hurt you. You can trust me."

"Well, of course you'd say that now," Lois replied as she finally, slowly opened her eyes. "Just like every other man on the planet, you'd say anything if you thought it would get you in bed with me."

"Believe me, Lois. I am not like any other man on this planet," Clark vowed solemnly.

"Oh yeah?" Lois retorted haughtily. "Prove it."

"Prove it," he repeated. Clark stared at her for a long quiet moment as a wicked gleam began shining bright in his gaze. "Fair enough. I'd have to tell you sooner or later, anyway."

"Tell me what?" Her voice was positively dripping with sardonic doubt.

Clark waggled his eyebrows, scooped her up into his arms… and floated right up off the floor until he had her nearly pinned to the ceiling. "I may have neglected to tell you about a few particular… abilities of mine," he told her.

She gaped wide-eyed in shock at what he he'd done and where he now held her suspended—in mid-air. "You… you're… you're… Su—

"Superman," he finished for her with a proudly smug beam.

"Holy moley," Lois gasped, then promptly lost consciousness.

~*S*~


	3. Chapter 3

~*S*~

Part Three

~*S*~

Lois slowly opened her eyes to the sight of a panic-stricken Clark calling her name over and over, and she quickly surmised that Clark was apparently clueless that she was simply in the throes of post-orgasmic bliss, and it was all his fault.

The man had been the only thing on her mind the whole. Damn. Night.

From the moment she checked back into what she had secretly been calling their "love nest" over the course of their under-cover sting, all Lois Lane could think about was her mild-mannered, drop-dead-gorgeous, amazing-mind-blowing-kisser partner, Clark Kent.

Throughout every minute of her deliriously, luxuriously, long, hot bubble-bath, during which the only thing that prevented her from calling Clark was the repeated dropping of the receiver into said bubbly suds. She put on, then tore off three—_count 'em, three!_ negligees, but when she found herself tossing fitfully through naughty nightie number three, she even tried crawling between those silky satin sheets completely in the buff once again. And through it all, she thought about Clark. She jumped out of bed once again to cover up in the first short shorts and tank-top she could grab, dive back under cover, and grab the phone to punch out Clark's numbers at lightning speed before anything, herself included and especially, could stop her.

And still, she'd chickened out when she finally had is ear in live-time. After she carefully placed the receiver back in its cradle after that horribly awkward and painfully obvious conversation, she laid back, killed the lights, and let out a healthy scream of primal frustration. Why couldn't she just do this? Women do this kind of thing all the time these days. There's no reason an attractive woman and an equally attractive man, who are obviously equally attracted to each other, couldn't engage in mutually consensual, recreational, and yes, dammit, **_sexual_** activities—without it having to be some sort of life-altering soul-shattering heart-wrenching event, is there?

And it had been so long, _so very achingly long,_ since she'd actually enjoyed the physical pleasures of the flesh.

But she just couldn't bring herself to actually go through with it. To take that chance and cross that line with this man, of all men, could very well be the biggest disaster of her admittedly pathetic love-life. What they had now was a good thing, and she just wasn't anywhere near ready to take that leap of faith.

_Not in real life, anyway… but what could possibly be the harm in indulging a little private fantasy,_ she'd found herself musing. Especially here of all places. The honeymoon suite she had so recently shared with the devastatingly sexy man who had been so greatly occupying her thoughts? Why, he'd even been kind enough to give her a tantalizing taste to get her fire started.

She so clearly recalled many of the myriad sensations he had wrought in that brief demonstration that she could almost feel his solid body pressing into hers, his solid muscles flexing into her, the heat of his body radiating above her, burning her own flesh. She closed her eyes as she ran her hands down the length of her own body, her mind placing his image before her shuttered lids. Clark's hands at her breasts. Clark's mouth on hers.

So when the bedroom door of the honeymoon suite swung open and Lois hit the lights to expose one tall, dark, devilishly handsome Clark Kent, she very nearly came out of her skin in every sense of the words.

"Clark?" Lois very nearly screamed at the top of her lungs. She dropped back against the mattress as though gravity sucked her down tenfold. "What the hell?" She schooled her features into the portrait of outrage in a desperate bid to mask the cause of the dark flush staining her skin—all of her skin, every last inch of her skin, skin that was burning because of the sinful thoughts she'd just been entertaining about the very man darkening her door. "What are you doing here?"

His sly smirk barely flexed, and she was seized with the insane impulse to kiss it off of him. "Accepting your invitation." That butter-wouldn't-melt silky smooth voice of his was doing nothing to help her cause, though it was doing wonders for his.

She sat back up abruptly, dragging all the bedding around her like some outraged medieval chamber maiden. "You weren't invited!"

One heavy eyelid dropped down in the worst exaggerated wink Lois had ever witnessed outside a burlesque theatrical performance. "Your unspoken invitation." _Good god, this couldn't possibly really be happening, could it?_ Had she just plain gone right over the edge into hallucinatory oblivion with that little fantasy she started earlier? "I couldn't let this opportunity pass us just because you chickened out."

"Chickened?—what? Clark, have you lost your mind?" _Or did I?_ He couldn't have just said that. Clark wouldn't have said that. Only a figment of her deluded imagination would have said that. Next thing she knew, she'd be seeing him in blue tights and a red cape. _As if._

Still practically leering at her, Clark crossed further into the room, kicking the door shut behind him, and came to a stop less than half a step away from the edge of the bed. "On the contrary, Lois. I'm seeing things more clearly than ever." His eyes were positively predatory as he stared her down, and Lois was struck with yet another libidinous urge to rip that leather right off his shoulders. "And you know what I find most telling, Lois?" His voice was growing softer and deeper and darker with every syllable as he leaned in toward her with maddening slowness. She started to shake her head as Clark continued without pause. "Last night, when you knew I was right on the other side of that door, just a heartbeat away, you decided to slip between the sheets wearing nothing but a smile." By now, his face was nearing hers and the inches seemed to be closing very fast all of a sudden. He finally stopped short of contact by such a slight breadth she could taste his cologne. She took her next breath quite slowly as Clark's words pressed on where his body hadn't.

"But tonight, when you had the whole suite all to your little lonesome, for some reason you decided you needed to wear pj's to bed." He reached out and flicked a single index finger beneath one strap of her tank top to snap it against her flesh. She blinked at the slight but unexpected sting. Still, Clark did not let up, not for a moment. "Enjoying the freedom to strut around in a negligee I could understand—" Lois gasped, eyes wide in apparent shock as Clark gaze grazed across her entire body with such intensity she could physically feel its presence warming her flesh. "You did say you were intent on indulging yourself." His gazed flicked due south of the border, his eye sparkling and gleaming in the diffused light of the bedroom's small lamp. "Wasn't that the whole point of this little getaway of yours in the first place?" Clark's words carried on, but they were starting to blur a little behind the buzz of her blood rushing in overdrive through her veins. "But those plain, boring, frumpy pj's…" Each taunting word was accentuated with a pointed stare at certain particular aspects of her anatomy with that laser-sharp gaze. "Tsk, tsk, tsk."

"Frumpy?" She suddenly hit her outraged-womanhood threshold like a runaway bullet-train careening down the Matterhorn. "You just wait a second, buster." She rose up like a fiery phoenix, the silk and satin pooling beneath her as she knelt through it, forcing Clark back across the bed without so much as a finger of physical contact. "How the hell did you know what I was wearing last night?" _Either I'm loosing my mind or my partner's a bit of a pervert. Either way, it doesn't look good. _

"You mean what you weren't wearing?" No matter what way you look at it, that was not a good answer, as Lois clearly indicated to Clark with a hefty right swing.

When he caught her swing at the wrist well before she made contact with his face, she sucked in a surprised gasp. "Were you spying on me? You got some sick voyeuristic peeping habits I should know about?"

"Not really," he answered vaguely. He'd somehow pulled her in closer without her realizing until she caught his thumb stroking the inside of her wrist less than an inch away from the thin fabric of her t-shirt that was the only barrier between his flesh and her nipple. She shivered in one long full-body tremble.

Lois tried to wrench free, but only succeeded in pulling Clark closer still, and she wasn't entirely sure which had been her intent. Sensing her weakening, Clark pressed on. "But I just can't seem to muster up much will-power whenever I'm around you." Another shiver shot down her spine like a shaft of lightning, and she reached out without thought. Her hand crashed into the unyielding cords across his pecs and held there, seeming suspended of their own volition even to her.

Clark's hand slipped behind her and she felt the pressure of his palm searing the small of her back, drawing her pelvis directly up and into his own-and there was absolutely no mistaking the strength of his interest. Lois swallowed hard, unable to tear her eyes from his, seeing them up so very close, and for perhaps the very first time ever, completely unencumbered by the frames and lenses normally shielding and filtering the impact of his gaze. Here at zero range, she didn't stand a chance.

"Truth is," Clark still did not relent for even a heartbeat, "you wouldn't even need Kryptonite to have me on my knees if you gave it just half an effort."

The strangest, strongest tingling sensation ripped through her head to toe inside and out. "Kryptonite?" The last vestiges of reality tried to rear their ugly heads in her derisive snort. "Hah! Even if that stuff did exist, the only person it could possibly effect is Superman." Another stronger, almost burning, jolt ripped through her this time, but she steadfastly ignored it. "And you hardly," she poked his chest and pumped her hips hard enough to grind into his but good, "qualify there, Smallville."

He caught her hips, his hands splaying around her waist and held her firmly in place with such heat she was almost surprised their clothing hadn't spontaneously combusted. "Oh, you'd be surprised," he answered with that all-too-knowing grin. Desperately grasping for any last straw of defiance, she snorted out another huff. Clark responded by pulling her wrist straight to his lips, never even so much as breaking for a blink as he lovingly caressed the tender flesh there with those soft, hot lips. So hot, too hot. It was all just so unreal…

She couldn't contain the soft sigh that slipped passed her own too-dry lips. Her tongue darted out to moisten them, and the action finally ripped his eyes from hers. And she gasped as though seeing him for the very first time. Like seeing-him-naked seeing him for the first time. Like seeing a complete stranger become instantly intimately familiar for the first time. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he told her with lips still pressing into her skin. The vibrations of his voice against her flesh elicited another moan from his fast-yielding partner.

"Stop it, Clark!" There wasn't much strength left in her voice now, and her protest wasn't the slightest bit convincing even to herself anymore. It was all for show now.

Clark lifted his other hand to tenderly stroke her cheek; he smoothed his thumb across full lips that began to part beneath his touch. A soft surrendering sigh slipped out of her mouth, seeming to take all the fight she had left in her with it. But then she suddenly snapped out of the spell he was casting with one last firm shake of her head.

"No. This is crazy," she refuted, her voice firm once again.

His arms curved around her waist to pull her ever more snugly into his solid masculine frame. "This is destiny," he countered.

"It's insanity," she retorted, only halfheartedly trying to pull away.

"It's fate." He pulled her fractionally closer still.

"Madness." She was barely resisting now.

"Inevitable." Scarcely more than a hair's breadth remained between their mouths.

"It's lunacy." She simply couldn't make herself pull back anymore. She helplessly, completely submitted to him, to her own traitorous desires.

"Utter foolishness," Clark finally agreed as that final infinitesimal distance between them closed and their mouths merged together at long last.

Cue fireworks, magic fairies, a grand orchestral symphony, and a spectacular laser-light pyrotechnic display to put Pink Floyd to shame.

~*S*~


	4. Chapter 4

~*S*~

Part Four

~*S*~

"Oh my… Wow." Lois breathed the exultation into Clark's gradually slowing kiss.

"Why have we been fighting this for so long?" Clark asked after breaking away several long moments later. "Can't you feel how good we are together?"

_Oh, I can feel something, alright. _Lois kept her eyes fastened shut as she fought desperately to calm her heavy breathing and slow her racing pulse. "I told you what happened the last time I was foolish enough to sleep with someone I work with." This was her absolute last-ditch effort to call up some sanity in this mad, mad episode. "I won't be made a fool like that ever again."

"Oh, Lois," Clark breathed. "I would never, ever make a fool of you." If she weren't so aroused, she might have actually cursed him for saying exactly the right thing. "I swear, I would never do anything to hurt you. You can trust me."

"Well, of course you'd say that now," Lois replied as she finally, slowly opened her eyes. Never one to go down without one hell of a fight, she clung to that weak defense like the last floating seat cushion in a stormy sea after miraculously surviving a spectacularly explosive plane crash. "Just like every other man on the planet, you'd say anything right now if you thought it would get you in bed with me."

"Believe me, Lois. I am not like any other man on this planet," Clark vowed solemnly.

"Oh yeah?" Lois retorted haughtily. "Prove it."

"Prove it," he repeated. Clark stared at her for a long quiet moment as a wicked gleam began shining bright in his gaze. "Fair enough. I'd have to tell you sooner or later, anyway."

"Tell me what?" Her voice was positively dripping with sardonic doubt, aptly masking her silent, fervent prayer against all sane hope that whatever he said next would finally push her over the edge. Which edge she truly wanted to take that tumble off, though, she would not contemplate.

Clark waggled his eyebrows, scooped her up into his arms… and floated right up off the bed until he had her nearly pinned to the ceiling. "I may have neglected to tell you about a few particular… abilities of mine," he informed her with a far-too-smug grin.

She gaped wide-eyed in shock at what he he'd done and where he now held her suspended in mid-air—and, of course, the full body-and-mind explosion that ripped through her as his unexpected revelation permeated every fiber of her being. "You… you're… you're… Su—

"Superman," he finished for her with a proudly smug beam.

"Holy moley," Lois gasped, then promptly lost consciousness.

"Lois?!" Clark immediately dropped them down in a gentle landing on the soft mattress below. "Lois? Wake up, Lois! Are you all right? Lois? Lois!" Panic thickened his voice with every cry of her name.

Just before his heart stopped in sheer dread, her eyelids started to flutter. "Wow."

Clark pulled back with a slight shake of his head. "Wow?" His brows arched up as he repeated her breathy exclamation, a slow smile creeping across those luscious lips of his.

Lois smiled back, a feral, seductive beam that captivated him entirely. "If we're that good with our clothes on, just imagine how amazing it'll be when we're naked!"

Clark laughed out loud. "That's more like it," he replied with an interesting mix of satisfaction and relief as he dropped down to catch her lips between his.

Lois positively mewled into his caress with sheer pleasure. "God," she cried out breathlessly as he released her mouth to drag in a hefty lungful of oxygen. "What a crazy dream!"

"Guess again," Clark growled as he swooped down to resume kissing her once more. At the last possible moment, though, she turned her head away, leaving his insistent mouth to land on the sensitive skin just beneath her ear.

She gasped sharply at the hot, moist contact. "This is a dream," she answered with a firmness that caught him by surprise. Clark jerked his head back up to gaze down on her with eyes darkened to infinite pitch-black darkness. "This is just a dream. It has to be a dream," she amended. "If it's not… I don't want to know." When his eyes crinkled in confusion, she added, very softly, "I'm not ready to know."

His eyes softened then, filling with such powerful emotion it stole her breath. "Lois…" Clark sighed, half in protest, but half in resignation as well.

"Clark…" Her eyes fell shut, and she squeezed them tight for a moment before she could speak again. "I can't even admit how much I li… how much I lo—I lo… " She trailed off with a frustrated sigh. "I can't even say it out loud in a dream," she chided herself with something of a self-deprecating little chuckle. "And if you really are…" she paused to suck in a mighty breath. "Superman," she almost spit out, "if you've been lying to me since the day we met… If my best friend and my greatest fantasy are actually one and the same… I think it just might kill me right now." She shivered, and this time not at all from unspent passion.

"As long as this is just a dream, though…" She slowly raised her heavy eyelids to cast that sultry smile of hers upon him once more. "Anything goes. I'm free… to do… anything." She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him back down toward her. "Everything."

She slipped one hand back around his neck, up along his cheek. After lightly fingering one arm of the frames holding those lenses in place between their mingling gazes, she slid his superfluous spectacles down the bridge of his nose and away from his face, stretching her arm out to absently drop them on the nearby nightstand before bringing her fingers back to trail across his now-naked features.

Clark stared down into her eyes for what felt like several lifetimes, silently begging her, willing her, to see the truth in his eyes at long last, to see the truth he had been so carefully hiding in his heart since the moment he first laid his eyes on her. "You don't have to say anything, Lois," he told her quietly. One of his hands found its way back to her face, his thumb again tracing the line of her full bottom lip. "But I want you to know…" When he paused, she held her breath, and he could see she was half terrified and half ecstatically anticipating his next words. "I love you."

"Oh Clark—" Those were all the more words able to slip past her lips before they were swallowed up again in an intensely passionate kiss. Lips plundered, tongues plunged and thrust, parried and tangled. Hands were everywhere, arms and legs entwined. She could not bring him close enough; she wanted to pull him inside of her right through her skin, and he certainly shared that desire in full equal measure.

It less than the time it would have taken Lois to blink, had her eyes been capable of opening, that is, she gasped as a rush of cool air assailed her sensitized and suddenly fully denuded skin. Clark's mouth never paused in its plundering of hers as his equally bare physique instantly came back into weightless contact with her own before her heart even started its next eager beat.

She moaned with great relish as she felt the tell-tale heat of one seriously impressive specimen of male arousal pressed into her belly. _This has to be a fantasy_, she thought. _**That**__ is humanly impossible._ She brought one leg high up around his hip to try to bring him ever impossibly closer.

Another gasp tore through Lois's lips as Clark wrested his mouth from hers to lay a trail of fiery kisses along her jaw, her throat, her collarbone. Another lusty moan rumbled through her chest as his tongue dipped into the valley at the center of her clavicle and plunged down deep between her breasts. Her hands dug fiercely into his soft locks and she recklessly raked her nails into his scalp as his mouth latched onto one pert nipple.

Her cries of pleasure rang out loudly through the night air as lips and tongue lapped and swirled and teased that peak into tauter arousal than she had ever experienced. She whimpered at the scant loss of contact when he quickly switched to lavish the other side with the same loving attention, only to nearly shriek out his name when his teeth grazed her in an almost too-rough nibble.

Never in her life had she been subjected to such pure, unadulterated lust as this man was inspiring in her tonight. She arched her back, and the tilting of her pelvis had exactly the result she'd intended. She felt that heady thick member slide between her legs to nestle snugly cradled in her slippery-slick folds.

Lois hooked her right ankle around his, and with her left still clutched high about his waist, she ground her pelvis into his, taking his entire mighty length and girth into her in one mind-shattering thrust. He stretched and filled her as she'd never imagined possible, and as he was finally drawn in sheathed to the hilt, she exploded around him. Every last tiny muscle inside her contracted with such superb pleasure around the severe searing heat of his shaft of steel that tears began streaming unheeded down her cheeks.

Clark's own passion was utterly relentless now. He withdrew almost completely with nearly agonizing slowness before driving deep inside her again and again. Every thrust sent her soaring inexplicably higher into throes of orgasmic delight, and she wondered how it was humanly possible to withstand such pleasure without truly losing her mind—at least the conscious part of it. And yet, for all the power he used to slam into her harder and harder, he never once actually pressed his weight onto her, holding her seemingly suspended in a cloud of physical sensation between his driving body and the slippery soft mattress beneath.

She began clawing at the surface beneath her for some desperate purchase, but as they continued their nearly furious bump and grind, she felt herself and, lo, the entire mattress begin sliding across the box springs. Only enough of gravity's influence affected her enough to send her blood, already racing through her veins at super-light-speed, rushing into her brain as the mattress sank toward the floor. Her vision clouded and tinted bright red behind her closed lids, and her almost desperate cries of frenetic ecstasy spurred Clark on to ever deeper expressions of his rampant passion.

With those strong, bulging-muscled arms wrapped securely about her entire torso, Clark rose to his knees. Lois wrapped both legs around his waist now to straddle him with that hot rod splendidly impaling her with stroke after mind-numbing stroke. She dug her nails into his back with all her might as she rode him for all she was worth. Her lips and tongue gobbled up every inch of his face, his throat, his shoulders, and as much of his mighty broad chest as she could reach.

Without warning, Clark ripped her off of him and dropped her against the sloped mattress. His large hands splayed low across her abdomen, and with neigh but the power of his thumbs, he spread her legs wide open before him and lowered his head down to worship her womanly core with his loving mouth. She shouted his name louder than ever.

His name. _**His**_ name! Even through the lingering laser-light fog and the heady haze of passion, every time he heard her utter the word "Clark" he wanted to shout for joy. Even when he'd thrown his super-sized alter-ego in her face, she still had only ever called him Clark from the moment he'd burst onto the scene. He could live happily on that knowledge alone for the rest of his life.

As her hands again dug into his now-curly moist locks, Clark lapped up her sweet juices with greater joy than he'd ever dared dream. She tasted so completely perfect, he knew he'd never be sated enough, and he would always, always be eager for more. He took great delight in exploring every nuance of her hidden treasure, altering pressure and speed, quickly learning exactly what and how and where she liked it best. When he dove his tongue as deep inside her as he could reach—and that was, naturally, quite delightfully deep—she again cried out his name. The depth of pleasure and emotion in her voice made his heart constrict with the pleasure of longing too-long denied finally being quenched by nectar more fantastic than anything of even his most vivid fantasies.

As her body began to tremble and quake beneath him once again, Clark raised his head up the length of her body, raking his tongue up the center of her torso as he pulled her up, over, and on top of his straining erection. As she sank down his rigid length, she clenched tightly around him, very nearly driving him over the precipitous edge he was using every last drop of super-will-power he possessed to delay crossing prematurely.

He drew himself back, clasping her about each leg to draw them up past his waist. Holding her firmly lodged on his silky shaft of love he drew his hands along the curves of her calves to grasp her ankles in his firm grip. He raised her legs higher still until they came to rest on his shoulders and began driving deep inside of her once again; he drew her thighs in together, prompting her without words to clamp even tighter around him.

Then he slid his arms beneath her and drew her up, practically folding her in two as he levitated off the floor. He laid back mid-air, pulling her along with him so that she was literally sitting astride him. She was completely unprepared for his next move, which was to spin her around on him and pull her back against his solid chest. She squealed in surprised delight, and her legs immediately wrapped around his as she stretched out over him.

Lois brought one arm reached up to wrap around his neck behind her as her showered her neck and throat with more of those incredibly hot kisses; the other slid down along her belly and through the coarse tangle of curls thinly concealing their juncture. Clark was ever quick to respond, one thick, strong arm coming around her to fondle her breasts, and the other riding low around their conjoined hips to mingle with hers, their fingers sliding against each other as much as their intimately bound sexes.

The air was thick and heavy with their sweat and hormones and pheromones all intermingling and oh-so-effectively provoking their further arousal. The reinforced soundproofing of the Lexor's honeymoon suite was certainly taxed to its limit with the moans and groans, sighs and cries, and more than a few screams and shouts of heavenly ecstasy from the near-delirious love-birds.

They rolled around on the slumping mattress almost as much as they rolled around right in mid-air, and as Lois finally showed signs of wearing out, Clark let her come back to a gentle rest face-down on the flattest of the bed's thoroughly thrashed surface. He began dropping kisses along the back of her neck, massaging the tops of her shoulders with his lips and tongue, and the ensuing sparks of electricity he elicited sent her racing through one last set of mind, heart, and soul shattering multiple orgasms as he finally let himself follow her over the edge into orgasmic oblivion.

Much, much later, as their blood slowly began to cool, Clark rolled off of Lois onto his back, then pulled her back into his arms in a tender embrace. "I love you," he whispered into her hair.

"I love you, Clark," she whispered back, making Clark grin so broad even he was afraid his face might split. She pressed a single kiss at the pulse point along his throat, and then her next words almost broke the spell, and his heart, completely. "And that's why you have to go now."

"What?" His eyes flew open faster than a speeding bullet. "Go?"

She kissed his temple before speaking again. "Go. Tomorrow… when I wake up… this will be the best dream of my entire life."

Clark let his eyes drift shut for a moment; only after a heavy sigh did he dare prop them open again. "Lois… are you sure?"

Lois sighed, wishing for one desperate moment that she had more courage when it came to matters of the heart. "I'm sure you'll be much safer if I don't know whether or not this ever really happened."

When she phrased it that way, even Clark was hard-pressed to argue. Still, there was one qualifier in there that he wasn't sure he could live with. "Ever?"

"Well… maybe someday, I'll tell you about it." Clark quirked one brow at her. "And then you can tell me if it was just a dream or not."

He glanced down at the mussed hair of the lovely woman he'd just shared himself so completely with and graced her love-puffy lips with one last tender kiss. "Someday," he vowed. She rolled away from him then, and he carefully extracted himself the rest of the way out of her embrace.

It was only his love for her that was strong enough to overcome the last lingering impulses from his forgotten Red-Kryptonite exposure to leave the room in its jumbled state and let her over-active imagination explain *that* in the morning. So, as Lois drifted into slumber, Clark made quick work of returning the bedroom to some semblance of order before whipping back into proper attire for his departure. But he couldn't resist leaving her one sure-to-perplex souvenir of their night together; he only wished he could see her face when she discovered his red briefs peeking out from under her pillow.

~*S*~

To Be Continued...

in *Red Alert!* ~~ f*f*dotnet/s/5946533/1/Red_Alert

~*S*~

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